I'm Your Puppet
by liviafan1
Summary: She spends most of her nights with him. He slides out of bed at the crack of dawn to make her coffee while she gets ready. She rewards him with a warm tilt of her lips, only now it's followed by a soft kiss and a murmured "I love you" against his ear.


**Back home for me tomorrow.**

* * *

He knocks on her door half an hour before he's supposed to, an hour before they need to be at the launch of Frozen Heat. Or rather, before _he_ needs to be there. She's just along for the free hors d'oeuvres and the open bar.

Well, that's what she said, anyway. He knows she gets a kick out of these events every now and again, enjoys being at his side after they publicly came out as a couple a month ago. He'll take what he can get for now because he knows it'll wear on her eventually and he'll have to start going alone again.

She swings the door open, clutching the lapels of her short silk robe in her hand. Her hair is piled in a bun on her head, wispy at the edges from the steam of her shower, no doubt.

He swallows hard, lets his eyes travel the length of her smooth, tan legs unabashedly.

When he reaches her face, he finds her eyebrows quirked, her lips twisted in an amused smile.

"You done?"

He reaches for her as he steps into the apartment, kicks the door behind him.

"Not by a long shot," he growls, bunching the smooth fabric as his hands slide against her waist.

"I hope you're not early because you're looking for a quickie," she says, clutching his biceps as his mouth works over her neck.

He groans. "Hadn't really crossed my mind until you said it just now."

She hums in amusement. "Shame."

"We've got plenty of time. You look dressed to me." His hands travel to her front, tugging on the knot of her belt. She pushes his hands away as her laugh tinkles inside his ear. She presses a kiss to his cheek and pulls away, her fingers slipping through his.

"I've got to finish getting ready," she says. He swears he detects a hint of regret in her voice. She heads for the bathroom down the hall, throws him a smile over her shoulder, eyes light with ease and happiness.

She returned to the precinct a few weeks ago, unsurprising to him. He knew she'd never be able to stay away, even if she was putting her mother's case behind her. He didn't take it personally, knows she chose _him_ and the job is a part of her, will always be a part of her.

He doesn't care, just wants her to be happy. He would've supported her if she decided to stay away permanently, too.

He loves Detective Beckett, but he loves Kate more.

She'll always be badass and she'll always be able to kick his ass to next Tuesday at the drop of a hat. Those things wouldn't have changed either way, which is exactly how he wants it.

He hasn't been in since she resigned, though. Things are still cooling down and Kate's still in lukewarm water with Gates and Castle knows better than to push her too far.

Maybe in a month. Maybe two.

He misses the beat, misses working the cases with her and the boys. He can still feel it in his bones, still yearns for the thrum of murder.

But she's made it worth it. She spends most of her nights with him, both his place and hers. He slides out of bed at the crack of dawn to make her coffee while she gets ready. She still thanks him and rewards him with a warm tilt of her lips, only now it's followed by a soft kiss and a murmured "I love you" against his ear.

Their banter is still music to his ears, just comes in an evolved form now. She'll nudge against him with the roll of her eyes when she catches him watching her brush her teeth or put her make-up on. She'll scold him when he adds an extra dash of garlic to her pasta sauce because _she knows how to cook, for God's sake._ He'll teases her when he finds her perusing his own section of his bookshelf and she'll huff at him, still won't admit how big of a fan she is.

Some things never change.

He steps into the bathroom as she fiddles with her iHome, her back exposed in an unzipped black dress.

"Need some help?" he murmurs, brushing his lips against the top of her spine as his hand lingers near her zipper, his warm fingers pressing into her skin. She shivers as her hand falls away from the dock, the soft tones of an old 60s song filling the air.

His mouth slides against her skin, lingers at the back of her neck. He slips his hands through her hair, finding the small clip that holds it to her head. He releases it and tosses it onto the counter, inhaling as her soft tresses hit his face.

"_Pull another string and I'll kiss your lips, I'm your puppet," _he sings quietly against her jaw, his right hand slipping around to wrap around her stomach.

She sighs against him, humming the tune low in her throat. He tosses her hair to one shoulder, nuzzles his nose behind her ear.

"_I'm just a toy, just a funny boy __that makes you laugh when you're blue." _

She chuckles and he sees her slip her eyes closed in the mirror, a soft smile gracing her lips. One of his hands brushes down the length of her arm to tangle his fingers with hers. She lifts their clasped hands to her lips, brushing a kiss against them before letting them rest at her heart.

He slides her zipper up with his free hand, reveling in the feel of her heartbeat against their hands.

She turns slowly in his arms, slips her hands through his hair before letting them rest at the nape of his neck. Her eyes shine, loving and adoring. She leans into his forehead, her lips hovering just over his.

"_I'm a walking, talking, living, loving puppet, and I love you," _she murmurs in a soft lilt, pressing her lips gently to his.

"Sure we can't stay here tonight?" he breathes, nudging his nose against her cheek.

She laughs. "I think they'll notice that the guest of honor is missing."

"I don't want to share you tonight," he confesses.

She smiles, her hands sliding down his shoulders to rest against his chest. "You can have me for the weekend. Just the two of us," she promises.

"Aren't you on call?"

She shakes her head. "It's Esposito's weekend."

"Well, if I get you for the _whole_ weekend, then I guess I don't have much of an argument, do I?" he asks, kissing her forehead before she slips out of his grasp.

"If you're good, I'll let you cop a feel on the way home," she teases cheekily, rolling her eyes.

He pouts as he flicks off the light switch and follows her out of the bathroom.

"You better be prepared to follow through with that, Katherine Beckett."

* * *

**The song is "I'm Your Puppet" by the Box Tops, courtesy of Stana Katic a la ATP playlist.**

**Thoughts?**

**Olivia**


End file.
